


Are Ye Fantastical, or That Indeed Which Outwardly Ye Show?

by spuffyduds



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Slings & Arrows
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-30
Updated: 2009-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-04 00:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whilst hunting zombies, an intrepid pair of axe-wielders stumble across a madman instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are Ye Fantastical, or That Indeed Which Outwardly Ye Show?

**Author's Note:**

> Canon-compliant for season two of Slings &amp; Arrows; wildly AU for post-canon Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the series.

Wes makes his way slowly through the labyrinthine lower levels of the theatre, axe raised, using that silent rocking-from-heel-to-toe gait that he has utterly failed to teach Faith. She _stomps_. Which, he supposes, is easier to get away with when one has superpowers.

He quietly opens another door, steps in and does a quick scan of the new room in the light of its one tiny lamp. A jumbled stack of furniture, some old painted flats, a shabby couch—with, good Lord, someone on it.

Wes raises the axe and tries desperately to remember if he's ever encountered a _sleeping_ zombie. _Do_ they sleep? They _eat_, certainly, but—

The possible-zombie on the couch suddenly sits up, looks at Wes and yells, "Jesus Christ!"

The lack of "brains" as subject matter of the interjection reassures Wes, and he scrambles to think how to explain his presence and startling armed-ness, but the extraordinarily disheveled man on the couch stops even _looking_ at him, glares over into an empty corner of the room and says, "You're bringing _friends_ now, Oliver? With axes? That's _helpful_."

Then looks back at Wes and says, "Fuck off, I'm _tired_." Lies back down with his arms crossed over his chest and glowers at the ceiling.

"I'm, ah, sorry," Wes says. Probably this poor deranged soul has broken into the theatre to sleep. They really shouldn't just leave him here—he might steal something, or do himself an injury messing about with stage rigging or somesuch.

"Is there a—shelter of some sort nearby?" he says gently, but then there's stomping in the hall and Faith flings open the door.

"I _got_ one!" she says. "Right on the stage. He's coming up behind me, thinking he 's being all stealthy, right? But he's got that zombie moan going on, _uhhhhhhnnnnn_, so I turn around, _big_ swing, SPLUCH, and his head lands _eight rows_ back in the seats. It was _awesome_."

"Well done!" Wes says, and the couch fellow sits back up, gives Faith a long look, pulls his stocking cap off in a sweeping, courtly gesture, and says, "You, on the other hand, can wander through my lunacy any time you like."

"Hey, Geoffrey Tennant!" Faith says.

"Uh—you've _met_?" Wes says.

"He's on the posters in the _lobby_, Wes, what happened to "extraordinary attention to detail at all times," huh? He's the director for, uh, MacBeth."

"Don't!" Wes says quickly.

"Don't worry about it," Geoffrey says. "We're not on the actual stage, I don't think the production could _get_ any more cursed, and besides, you're hallucinations, you don't count."

"Of course," Wes says, because being considered hallucinatory removes the need to explain a lot, but Faith doesn't pick up on that. Or probably ignores it on purpose, because they've been debating openness versus secrecy for the last six hundred miles or so, and Faith is all for openness.

"Nah," she says, "not hallucinations. Zombie hunters. New Burbage's got an infestation."

Geoffrey blinks. "Of course it does," he says. "I'll be sure to tell Richard. Froghammer will want to use it on the billboards."

"Uh, okay," Faith says, then flashes her brilliant smile and elbows Wes. "Hey, maybe we can come back when the play opens?"

"You…want to…see it?" Wes says weakly.

"Yeah, sure, Lady Macbeth kicks _ass_," she says. She puts a hand to her chest and declaims, "I'd swing my own baby by the ankles and bash his brains out if he was as much of a wuss as _you_, husband!" Drops the dramatic pose and winks at Wes.

"You _read_ it," he says.

"Hey, you give me a book, I'm gonna read it," she says, softly now, and takes his hand.

"This is all very sweet and absurdist," Geoffrey says, "but I would like some sleep."

"Ah, of course," Wes says. "We will need to go up to the stage for a few minutes and deal with the, ah, zombie debris."

"Naturally. Deal with the leftover leprechauns while you're at it," Geoffrey says, pulls his stocking cap down over his face and lies back down.

 

They step out into the hall and Wes closes the door gently. "I should like to come back for the play," he says. "There's no need for this to be entirely a—-busman's honeymoon, so to speak."

"The hell are you talking about?" Faith says. "We're _driving_."

 

******************************************************************************

 

By the end of the play Wes has decided that, whatever city they finally settle in, they're getting season tickets to the theatre. Because Faith is wearing an astonishingly distracting dress and has the most wonderful expression, a rapt, transported look that he's only ever seen from her before at kung-fu movies and hockey games.

Wes buys two glasses of quite-awful wine in the lobby afterwards, and Geoffrey Tennant passes by them, surrounded by well-wishers. He's considerably cleaned up, and when he first sees Wes and Faith he flinches. Then he shrugs, smiles and gives them a little wave.

Wes watches him walk away in the knot of fans.

"I almost feel we should track him down and reassure him that we're real," he says. "I believe he has issues with his sanity."

Faith shrugs, which has a fascinating effect on the cleavage of her dress. "Don't worry about it," she says. "He thinks we're made up, but he just made all those made-up people real, so it evens out."

Wes gapes at her for a moment, until she leans closer and says, "Let's get back to the hotel," and then he shuts his mouth and does as instructed.

 

\--END--


End file.
